


Jim the Baby-Handed

by Charliesmusings



Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Jim gets to be an older brother and the author cries about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:42:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27982491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charliesmusings/pseuds/Charliesmusings
Summary: I don't think Jim would really be all that jealous of the babies... but what if, for just a moment, he was?
Relationships: Barbara Lake & Jim Lake Jr., Barbara Lake/Walter Strickler | Stricklander, Jim Lake Jr. & Walter Strickler | Stricklander
Comments: 9
Kudos: 65





	Jim the Baby-Handed

Jim wasn’t a troll anymore, but he could be still quick. He could still be _quiet_. In fact, not being a troll anymore actually rather helped that— he wasn’t walking around in plate mail anymore.

To be perfectly honest, Jim hadn’t even noticed when he’d grown used to the armor and the constant clank of metal against metal. Of course, every now and then, he’d grow aware of it, when he had to be stealthy, but that wasn’t often the assignment he was given, during their adventures across the continent— perhaps because of that exact issue, he realized belatedly. At any rate, the silence— the absence of the noise— was what he now noticed, was what stood stark in his mind, despite the fact that he was actively using it to his advantage in this moment.

He’d been on the hunt for his mom, to ask her about something, but— and he couldn’t even remember what it was anymore, because— when he’d finally figured out where she was, what he was greeted with stopped him dead in his tracks.

The soft glow from a door slightly ajar washed over Jim’s face for a moment, but as the room past it came into focus, he caught glimpse of his mom.

His mom, her side burrowed into Strickler’s, whose expression had nearly knocked Jim off his feet. Strickler looked so… _soft._ So kind.

So _loving_.

A gentle smile graced his features, and his eyes looked like they held everything pure and good in the world in them. And he was staring half at Barbara that way, and half at one of the many babies they’d been caring for that way, and Jim… didn’t know what to think.

He had known Strickler cared for his mom— of course he knew that. He’d even grown to like having the guy around, after everything he did to help Team Trollhunters— and Jim, himself— in the end.

But somewhere deep down, somewhere deep enough that Jim wasn’t even sure it had been a conscious thought, he’d had been afraid that when he’d come home… Strickler wouldn’t be there. That it would have happened again.

But that wasn’t it, at all.

Instead, Strickler was there when he’d returned, and, if Jim was being honest, he wasn’t sure if that hurt more, or less.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want Strickler around. After everything he’d just been through, he was pretty sure Strickler’s actions against him were far overshadowed by now. Plus… he’d basically forgiven Strickler after the gravesand incident anyway, so it wasn’t like he’d been holding a grudge since then.

No, it wasn’t what Strickler had done _to_ Jim that really caused him strife, in the now.

In the now, it was the ache in his chest that Jim could only call _trust_ , that seemed to hurt him.

Because Jim did trust Strickler, now. He trusted that Strickler wouldn’t walk out. He trusted that Strickler cared for his mom. He trusted that Strickler could embody everything that he’d thought that he’d been okay without. …And that was what had hurt.

Because, for a moment, the barest, briefest moment, Jim felt something rear in his chest, something that he immediately tried to shut down, upon seeing Strickler like that.

Try as he did, though, it didn’t quite go away.

Jim was _jealous._

It was not the first time he’d felt this, but feeling it about a relationship that he’d never really ever had felt far, far different than romantic jealousy. But, he supposed the absence of that relationship was exactly what had caused such a feeling in the first place.

Seeing that look— the look of a _father_ — in _Strickler’s_ eyes… it hurt. It hurt when he saw it directed at someone else, and it hurt in the space in his chest— in his life— that he hadn’t known was there, until he’d met someone who’d actually _wanted_ to fill it.

As much as he insisted that he didn’t need someone like that in his life, he’d almost grown to take advantage of the fact that he kind of… did want it. And had had it, and not just in Blinky.

Jim was about to turn around, about to walk back to his room and try to wrestle this newfound and entirely unwelcome feeling down, when he was reminded suddenly, that Strickler used to be a spy.

He was reminded of this by the man himself, because, despite how quiet he’d been, Strickler, ever the observant type, had evidently caught him lurking by the door. Jim heard Strickler’s voice, just loud enough for him to hear, say, “Jim, do you need something?”

Jim froze in the hallway, having been caught, and he hesitated to do anything about that, until his mom’s voice chimed in, “Jim, honey? Is that you? You can come in!”

He dallied for just a moment more, before he realized that walking away would probably worry them, and since he was actively trying not to do that, he pushed the door open slowly, trying his best to act casual, as if he hadn’t been haunting the doorway, looking in, for the past few minutes.

There was dead silence for a moment, but for the soft, white noise of baby monitors and quiet cooing from cribs, as Jim stared at his mom and Strickler, perhaps more tensely than he’d meant.

Barbara’s face crinkled in concern, as she opened her mouth to speak, only for Strickler to take it instead, “Hello, Jim.” He smiled. “What is it you needed? We’re just getting the little ones down for bed, but after that, we can help you with anything you may have for us.”

Barbara shot Strickler look that held both grateful relief, and something like… pride? Approval? Jim couldn’t quite tell what that was about, so he tried not to dwell on it, as he was trying not to dwell on many things at that moment.

He realized just a second too late for him to keep a casual air up, however, that it was his turn, now, to speak. Because of his slight dawdle, he had the full attention of both adults, and suddenly, it felt very, very weird to have. It was a little uncanny, he had to admit.

“Uh, yeah, I was just—” _the initial reason, what had his initial reason been for seeking out his mom? it had been something that had to do with permission—_ “Oh! Right!” he exclaimed aloud, before immediately flushing; he hadn’t meant to have an outburst like that, so to compensate, he continued in a hushed tone, being mindful of the tired children around him, “I was just going to ask about going to the movies with Claire and Toby tomorrow, but I guess it can wait now…” he trailed off, suddenly wishing very strongly for the ability to turn back time for exactly how long it would take to put him back in the hallway, where he could make a retreat, and handle this another day.

Strickler and Barbara shared a look— another odd occurrence, to Jim— before Barbara smiled in a way that meant she was worried but trying to hide it, “Oh… Sure, of course you can go, Jim. Are you worried about money? Don’t be, sweetie; I’ll leave some on the counter for you before I go to work tomorrow. Sound good?”

No such luck on the time travel front.

Jim nodded mutely, forcing a smile, before deciding that then would be the time to make his exit, since he was so desperately looking for one. His question was answered. It was time to go, now, and stop bothering the adults.

If he could just get himself to turn around, to stop gawking at his mom and Strickler and the baby in between them, at least.

Strickler followed his gaze, and something passed over his face, something that Jim couldn’t read, but suddenly felt very nervous about; before he could question it, however, Strickler said, “Jim, will you come over here a moment? I wish to ask you something, but you’re just a touch far away, all the way across the room like that. You can come closer— we aren’t too busy for you.”

Jim blinked, caught entirely by surprise at just how apt Strickler’s words really were. They actually made him… want to join Strickler and his mom, over by one of the cribs, so… he did.

He walked over slowly, nervousness showing in the way his fingers twitched for something to hold onto, the way he seemed to be shrinking into himself, as if trying to take up as little space as possible.

“There you are.” Strickler gave a reassuring smile. “As I said, I wanted to ask you something, if you don’t mind.”

Jim looked confused, but he shook his head.

“Would you like to hold Walter Junior?”

Jim’s mind screeched to a halt. Of all the questions he’d been expecting, that had been perhaps dead last.

“What?” Jim blurted, before he could think about his words, and almost instantly, he regretted it. Sheepishly, he tried again, “I mean… really?”

“Well, you never have before, and I thought, perhaps you should meet my familiar; you two may well end up needing to be acquainted, given that you share… a roof.” Strickler met Jim’s eyes pointedly.

 _How did he do that?_ Jim wondered, eyes going huge, as he realized he’d been caught not just in his doorway loitering.

“Uh— r-right…” He choked out, to Barbara’s mild alarm. Seeing Jim in distress— …but Walt’s hand had found hers just as he, too, had registered Jim’s tone, and by the way his thumb was rubbing softly over her knuckles, she decided to relax, and trust him to handle this. He’d always had a way with a Jim, she’d noticed; he always seemed to know what to say to help her son— and herself, she felt a flash of amusement, as she realized that he’d known immediately how to soothe her, even while dealing with a teen in crisis.

The room was quiet for another long pause, as neither Barbara nor Strickler spoke, giving Jim time to decide what to say next, until, voice small and quiet, he finally did.

“Can… can I?” He asked.

A knowing smile overtook Strickler’s face, and he nodded, gently picking up Walt Jr.

Jim had braced himself for all kinds of potential emotional outcomes, readied himself to try and bury the negative ones, prepared for what was potentially going to be a very rough few moments— but none of that ended up happening, as he was handed the baby.

Walt Jr.’s eyes were open and bright, and he was warm in Jim’s arms. His eyes were like saucers, boring curiously into Jim’s, as the pair of them evaluated the situation they were now in.

And then the baby smiled, and Jim’s heart shattered in a way that he had never experienced before.

A soft chuckle came from him, and his chest was light and fluttery, staring down at this tiny human being— he was so _small;_ it boggled his mind— who he could only see as… a gift. A true gift.

Before he was even aware of it, Jim had shifted the baby into one arm, so that he could offer his finger to Walt Jr., who grasped it in the softest of holds that Jim was sure he’d ever felt. He didn’t even mind when baby Walt brought his finger to his mouth, attempting to parse out exactly what he’d been given. He suckled on it a little, and Jim somehow even found _that_ to be cute. He wasn’t sure when he’d begun to smile, but as he pulled his finger away, as he watched Walt Jr. reach for it again, he suddenly became aware that his cheeks kinda hurt from smiling so big.

“Hey, little guy… I know you can’t talk yet, but I’m Jim. It’s nice to meet you. I’m-…” he hesitated for a moment, but decided to say, “Well, I guess I’m sorta your older brother, huh? That’s pretty cool…” And he meant it. “That means I get to be here for you; teach you all kinds of stuff. Like,” Jim felt a flash of a memory surface, of Draal in his backyard, “How to sword-fight.” He grinned, ignoring his mom’s disapproving look. “And, how to handle high school, though that’s pretty far away for you, huh? That’s okay. When you get to it, you’ll be so prepared, you won’t even have to go through all the awkwardness I went through. I mean, at the very least, you probably won’t have to fight things at night, or be a secret Trollhunter. You’ll just have to face Coach’s rope test, because I don’t think he’s _ever_ retiring. …It’s a shame you don’t get to have your counterpart’s class, though. It was the best one.” 

When he glanced up at Strickler at that, Jim was smirking. As their eyes locked, however, Jim almost felt like he’d been punched. His smirk rapidly faded into an expression of soft surprise. Because, _there._ Jim had caught it.

 _That look._ The look that had started all of this.

 _…What had Jim been worried about again?_ Of _course_ Strickler and his mom were there for him. Of course _Strickler_ was there for him. In the way that Jim hadn’t even wanted to admit that he’d wanted.

Because, when Strickler was looking at him like that, how could he possibly believe anything less? How could he have ever doubted his place in this… _family_.

Jim continued to hold Strickler’s gaze, as that thought came to his mind. Jim looked right back at Strickler… and then he smiled directly at him, all joy and love and relief.

…And then promptly found himself being pulled forward by his mom, pulled into the space between Strickler and herself, and, with his arms around the baby, and their arms around him, Jim finally allowed himself to expand his definition of ‘family’, one more time.

It now read: Mom, Toby, Blinky, Argh, Claire, Strickler… and a whole bunch of babies.


End file.
